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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984657">"Okay"</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilvermalec/pseuds/quicksilverdeancas'>quicksilverdeancas (quicksilvermalec)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dean and Sam Bingo [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Discussion of Sexual Assualt, Flashbacks, Hurt Dean Winchester, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Mentions of Past Rape/Noncon, Post-Soulless Sam Winchester, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Present Tense, Soulless Sam Winchester, Top Sam Winchester, enjoy?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:33:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984657</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilvermalec/pseuds/quicksilverdeancas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t worry about it, Sammy,” he mutters. Dean hasn’t been able to look Sam in the eye either, and Sam’s noticed. “It’s okay.”</p><p>Well, that’s absolute bullshit. And Sam knows it, and Dean knows it.</p><p>or</p><p>In which Sam made a huge ass fucking mistake that he doesn't even fully remember.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dean and Sam Bingo [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Dean and Sam Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>"Okay"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for the Dean and Sam Bingo. It fills the square, "Soulless!Sam".</p><p>This work contains semi-graphic discussion of an act of sexual non-consent. If that's a trigger for you, this is the third time it's mentioned and I've done my due diligence. Please. For the sake of your own mental health. Smack that back button and go find a Wincest fic that won't hurt you like this one.</p><p>Enjoy. I think.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam’s starting to remember. Things come back to him in small bursts, a little at a time, and as he figures out what kinds of things he’s done, he’s absolutely horrified. He’s definitely made a lot of mistakes he barely remembers, but one thing takes the cake.</p><p>He tries to talk to Dean about it, to apologize, but it’s not so easy as all that.</p><p>He sits down at the table across from his brother but he can’t make eye contact. Ever since he’s realized what happened he can’t look Dean in the eye. He can’t see the revulsion in his brother’s gaze.</p><p>“Dean, I… I’m starting to remember things. And I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t apologize,” Dean replies gruffly. “Just don’t.”</p><p>“Why not?” Sam demands. “It was absolute bullshit. I can’t believe I did that. It was never…” He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “I can understand – I probably can’t forgive myself, but I can <em>understand</em> – doing terrible things to complete strangers. But this isn’t about complete strangers, Dean, it’s about <em>you</em>! And I can’t forgive myself for what I did to you!” He can’t <em>breathe</em>, he needs Dean to understand how fucking guilty he feels for this transgression. There’s nothing he can ever do to make up for this.</p><p>Dean scoffs quietly, stands up, and walks away from him. He stares at the opposite wall, his shoulders hunched forward and his hands braced on a table. “Don’t worry about it, Sammy,” he mutters. Dean hasn’t been able to look Sam in the eye either, and Sam’s noticed. “It’s okay.”</p><p>Well, <em>that’s</em> absolute bullshit. And Sam knows it, and Dean knows it.</p><p>“Dean, I roofied and raped you. That’s okay <em>how</em>, exactly?” Sam demands. Dean doesn’t answer, and Sam’s ninety percent sure that if he’d been able to see his face, he would have seen Dean flinch at his blunt description of his actions.</p><p>Dean ignores his question, but he can obviously tell Sam won’t let up. Dean takes a deep breath and when he speaks he sounds almost like he’s making excuses for Soulless Sam.</p><p>“I don’t remember much of it,” he says. “Just… flashes, kinda. Don’t remember when it happened, but I sure as shit remember the morning after.”</p><p>#~+~#</p><p>Dean woke up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, but he wasn’t lying on his memory foam mattress. He felt like his brain was full of fog, he could barely process, could barely think. But slowly he pushed himself up into a sitting position and only then did he register that Sam was in the room with him.</p><p>“Hey, Sammy,” he groaned, putting a hand to his temple in an attempt to calm the headache that was raging on, trying to split his skull open. “The fuck happened to me last night?”</p><p>He was expecting an answer like ‘injured on a hunt’ or ‘you passed out because x, y, z’ and ‘I was taking care of you’. He didn’t expect-</p><p>“You’re really good in bed.”</p><p>His head snapped up as quickly as it could with the weird left-over feeling of fogginess. “What in the hell does that mean?”</p><p>Sam shrugged, standing up to make a cup of coffee. “You can sure make a dude come; I’ll give you that much.”</p><p>“Sam, stop beating around the bush and get to your point. I don’t have time for you mind games.”</p><p>Sam calmly took a sip of his drink before setting it down next to the coffee machine. “You begged for it, you know. It was all ‘Sammy, Sammy, Sammy’ and when I fucked you good enough you couldn’t breathe, just Sam. That was all you could get out, one-syllable words. Just ‘Sam’ and ‘god’ and ‘<em>fuck</em>’. And you were so good for me, too. You just begged and cried. ‘More, Sammy, more, feels so good, fuck me, need more, <em>more</em>.’” He smiled a wicked, perverted grin at his big brother.</p><p>“Oh, and have you got a dirty mouth on you. Shoulda expected that what with you swearing all the time and always being generally pretty gross, but…” He whistled. “Better than I even imagined. The absolute filth I pulled out of you was truly glorious.” He affected Dean’s gruff voice again. “The milder things were ‘so big, so good, <em>so good</em> for me Sammy, nnng, so damn good. Need you, need you deeper, harder, Sammy, faster, more, need it, give it to me, take me, fuck me, mark me, I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.’”</p><p>Sam picked up his coffee cup and took another drink. “Called me ‘Sammy’ a lot. Called me ‘baby boy’ once or twice, but I put a stop to that real quick. Considering I was the one with my cock in your ass, you were in no position to be giving me pet names. ‘Specially not ones that make me sound like a child, all weak and submissive… <em>you</em> were the weak, submissive one, <em>baby boy</em>.” Sam leaned close enough that Dean could taste the coffee on his breath and Dean leaned away in repulsion.</p><p>“Stay the hell away from me,” he spat. “You’re disgusting, what’s gotten into you? I—”</p><p>He looked away. He couldn’t even bring himself to keep looking at that monster for one more second.</p><p>“No,” Sam told him bluntly. “You’re stuck with me, big brother, and you know it.” He took another sip of his coffee cup and stared out the window, and didn’t look up when Dean slunk back to his own room.</p><p>#~+~#</p><p>Sam inhales shakily. “Oh… okay,” he whispers. “Well… wow. Just wow. I—”</p><p>“I said it was fine, Sam,” Dean snaps. “Can we just pretend it never happened now?”</p><p>“No,” Sam replies quietly. “I don’t think we can do that. I gotta make up for this however I can.”</p><p>“You can’t.”</p><p>“It wasn’t me,” Sam whispers. He doesn’t even mean to say it, it just slips out.</p><p>“Looked like you,” Dean tells him, finally turning around so Sam can see his face. “Walked like you. Talked like you. And, I’m assuming, fucked like you.”</p><p>“Dean—” Sam has no idea what to say or how to say it. But he needs to know what Dean’s thinking, whether he wants Sam dead or gone or not—</p><p>“Is that something you wanted?” Dean asks, and Sam doesn’t even comprehend the question for so long Dean looks about ready to ask it again, but then Sam’s brain starts working again just as Dean realizes he needs to clarify. “The real you. This you. The one with feelings and a soul or whatever. Did <em>you </em>want that?”</p><p>Sam doesn’t answer for a beat, and Dean turns away in disgust again. Finally, Sam manages to say, “yeah, Dean. I did. But I was never intending to <em>take </em>it from you. And then… I did. I knew you didn’t want that and at least… before Hell, and Lucifer and Michael and all that, I wasn’t going to force you. Look where that got me.”</p><p>He pushes himself up from the table, turning away from Dean. He’s fucked everything up so irreparably he doesn’t know how he’ll ever recover.</p><p>“I knew,” Dean murmurs. “Known for a while, actually. Just needed to hear you say it. But, Sam, I understand. I think it’s fucking disgusting, don’t get me wrong, but the way we were raised was fucking disgusting too, and considering how we were shoved together over and over and over again I don’t think it’s that unreasonable. So no, I don’t…” He shuddered. “<em>Feel </em>that way about you, but I get it. It doesn’t… it doesn’t change anything.”</p><p>Sam laughed bitterly. “Well, it’s good to know that my incest kink doesn’t change anything between us. Good to know we’re <em>that</em> fucked up. But I’m pretty sure the sexual assault does.” He picks up the duffel he’d dropped on the floor earlier. “I’m just gonna go. Don’t bother coming after me.”</p><p>“Sammy, wait.” Dean’s suddenly pleading, plaintive, and Sam doesn’t <em>get that</em>, because Dean’s not the one who should feel crappy, Dean should be welcoming the excuse not to have to kick Sam out, to let him leave of his own accord, because <em>seriously what kind of fucking monster do you have to be-</em></p><p>“I don’t want you gone,” Dean’s saying, and Sam freezes, because all this time that never even crossed his mind. “I- you’re my brother and I love you. And you did somethin’ shitty to me when you weren’t in your right mind but you’re still my brother and I still love you.”</p><p>“And I’m still a monster who has the potential to keep hurting more people!” Sam shoots back.</p><p>“’S not what I’m saying,” Dean replies. “I’m saying that yeah it fucked with my head but I don’t care cause it’s you. And I can never not forgive you. I’ve tried, but we just don’t… it’s impossible. I love you too much. Don’t fuckin’ leave me here.”</p><p>Sam sighs and drops his bag. “Okay, so now instead of ignoring the toxicity, abuse, and codependency between us, we’re just <em>allowing </em>it? Wow, we really are screwed up.” He turns so he’s facing his brother again and Dean looks so <em>confused </em>and <em>lost </em>it tugs at Sam’s heart because he hates that look on his face, he hates the way he acts when he’s in pain. And Sam’s been in love with Dean so long he can’t separate himself from those feelings anymore.</p><p>“Look, I love you, Dean. I love you so fucking much, I don’t know if you’ll ever really get it. And god fucking dammit, I’m never going to forgive myself for that. I don’t care if you forgive me. I’m never going to be able to let it go.”</p><p>“That’s why you’ve got me,” Dean tells him. “Big brother, ‘member? It’s my job. I’m here for you because I’ve always been here for you because it’s my only purpose in life. My only reason for bein’ alive is because I gotta take care of you. You’re the only reason I haven’t killed myself yet.”</p><p>Sam blinks. “Woah. Um… no? No thank you?” That’s information he’s never gotten before. “Trust me, I know from experience: I don’t like dead Dean very much.”</p><p>Dean shrugs, not looking at him. “Well, I don’t tend to like dead Samm- Sam very much either.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>
  <em>Oh!</em>
</p><p>How had Sam missed that these past few months? He can’t even get it out, he can’t even call him ‘Sammy’ anymore. How did Sam not see that?</p><p>Sam bites down on his bottom lip. “You’re in pain just from looking at me.”</p><p>Dean nods slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Why do you think I’m not? But you know what… Sammy?” Dean looks up, makes eye contact. He flinches slightly but doesn’t break it. “It wasn’t your fault,” he insists. “And I promise you, I’ll get better.”</p><p>Sam crosses the room to hug him – gently, giving him an escape route if he needs it. “I’ll help you,” he promises softly.</p><p>Dean smiles into Sam’s flannel.</p><p>They’re not okay, but they might be eventually.</p>
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